


Til I Get Over You

by adia90



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:21:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25126150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adia90/pseuds/adia90
Summary: What if it was Anne who had gone to Paris? Modern world AU.
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe & Anne Shirley, Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley, Gilbert Blythe/Winifred Rose, Royal "Roy" Gardner/Anne Shirley
Comments: 21
Kudos: 127





	Til I Get Over You

**Author's Note:**

> This is all over the place. I know I need to get back to FYEOM but it's taking me longer to complete the chapter. Thank you for not being angry at me. Still, stay safe and wear your mask!

_She was done pining after a man who did not return her love._

Anne was resigned to the fact that Gilbert Blythe loved another. But it didn’t mean she was okay with him in close proximity. Kind of hard to avoid if he was her best friend and the standing weekly lunch dates they have scheduled, not doing her much favor either. 

“Hey.” 

She jumped at the sight of him in her office, right after she had ended her conversation with her editor. The man chuckled. 

“Hey, Gilbert,” she greeted, trying for nonchalance. She stood behind her desk, tidying up her planner and trying to give off vibes that she was not in the mood to receive his usual hugs and kisses. “You’re early.”

“I’m hungry,” he whined. He stepped behind her desk to envelop her in a bear hug. “I missed you, Anne-girl. The game was not the same without you,” he murmured against her hair. 

She chuckled dryly. “I’m sure it’s an improvement with Winnie around? At least you could sneak in a kiss and a grope,” she joked, pulling away. “Beats going with a pal, I’m sure.”

Gilbert rubbed his neck. “Yeah,” he laughed. 

The two left for their weekly lunch. He could not help noticing her carrying more stuff than her usual purse. “Why are you lugging your whole office with you to lunch?”

“About that,” she started. “I’ll tell you after we order.”

They sat at their usual table in Imanishi. He ordered his usual roast beef bento. 

“I’ve been meaning to try the Kagatobi daiginjo. Do you have a bottle in house?” she asked the waiter. The man nodded, smiling, before disappearing behind the bar.

Gilbert whistled. “Wow, high rollers. Don’t let me stop you,” he joked. “Are we celebrating something?”

Anne smiled, albeit wistfully. She was going to miss him, but it would be good for her, the distance. It came right on time. “Miss Stacey offered me a six-month stint as a foreign correspondent in Paris.”

His face changed. He leaned back against his chair. “We’re not talking about off Hamilton, 1-hour drive, Paris, Ontario, aren’t we?”

She shook her head. “CBC does not need a foreign correspondent in rural Canada, Gil,” she joked gently. 

He exhaled, feeling the heaviness in his chest, all of the sudden. “When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow.”

* * *

Paris has been a little surreal. 

Sure, she has travelled a little. She and Diana took a sem off their junior year to backpack around Europe for two months. They spent a few days in Paris before travelling around the rest of France. Gilbert joined them in Spain for a few weeks. 

In Mallorca, they had a little too much to drink. Well, Gilbert did. Even if she was three sheets to the wind, it was not enough to rob her of the experience when he had kissed her under the moonlight on the beach. She kissed him back and they made love on the sand. 

The next day, he had apologised, blaming the sangria. 

“The view is just gorgeous, Anne. I’m so jealous of you right now,” Diana gushed. 

“You can always come to visit, Di,” she enticed, pushing her hair behind her ear. Having the Eiffel for a view was pretty awesome. “Come and see me. I’ll bring you around.”

“Aren’t you going to be busy covering the election?”

“Not all the time. Come on, it’ll be fun. I miss you and the gang.”

Diana’s face turned cautious. “Are you feeling better, Anne?” she asked quietly. 

Anne smiled. “I’m getting there.”

“I’m not too sure if this information is going to strengthen your resolve or whatever, but he’s throwing himself into the relationship in full speed. He doesn’t come around and hang out anymore, not for the past three weeks,” Diana spoke. “Date nights with Winnie,” she quoted with her fingers, rolling her eyes.

“Stop it, Di. She’s his girlfriend. The faster you accept the fact, the better it would be for all of us.” 

“When was the last time you spoke?” Diana asked. 

Anne shrugged. “We texted. He’s always busy or working or I dunno, boinking Winnie maybe, every time I try to video call.” 

“Fuck Gilbert Blythe,” Diana vowed ruthlessly all the way across the ocean. 

Anne nodded sagely. “Fuck Gilbert Blythe.”

* * *

“Look at that jaw. I could cut my finger on that jaw,” Jane marvelled, shaking her head. 

Gilbert chuckled. It has been quite some time since the last time he hung out with the Avonlea kids. At first he thought it would be easier, dealing with Anne being gone. But after awhile, he craved some connection to his best friend, and thought that maybe their mutual friends could remedy him missing her. 

“Hello, ladies. Who’s the poor dude you guys have been objectifying just now?” he greeted, pulling a chair to sit by Diana. 

Diana leaned back in her seat to greet him. Surprise written all over her face. “Hey, Gilbert. Didn’t know you could still recall the route to Moody’s.”

Gilbert rubbed his neck, feeling the heat creeping up his collar. “Been busy,” he mumbled. 

“Well, I’d be busy too if my girlfriend looked like Winnie,” Charlie called from his perch by the pool table. 

“Yeah, about that,” he started. “That’s kinda done,” he announced curtly. 

The crowd quieted down. 

“Huh,” was Diana’s simple reply. 

Moody walked by and patted him on the back consolingly. “I’m sorry, man.”

“Don’t be. It was not going anywhere, anyway,” he replied, shoving both hands into his pockets awkwardly. “So, what did I walk in into?”

Moody pursed his lips. He took it as a sign that his friend was arranging his words. “The girls were talking about Anne’s man,” he said quietly, looking curiously at him.

His heart stopped a beat. He tossed back his beer, trying to push down the lump in his throat. “Anne’s got a man?”

“Yeah! A hot one too!” Ruby chirped in. “Didn’t she tell you?”

He felt his chest getting tight. “No,” he answered curtly. He didn’t elaborate that he was too busy deflecting her video calls. 

Tillie frowned. “That’s weird,” she voiced out what the rest of them were actively thinking. Then she shrugged. “You’d be cockblocking her anyway, with your unnecessary protectiveness,” she added nonchalantly. 

“Exactly. So unfair that you are free to get laid with any women but any men interested in Anne, you’d be barricading her from them,” Jane chimed in. 

“What?” Gilbert spluttered. “I haven’t done that!” 

Josie gave him a breadbox look. “You have.”

He looked at Moody and Charlie for help. The latter shrugged. “You did discourage me from asking her out freshman year,” Charlie added in helpfully. 

Gilbert was speechless. 

“Moot now, since our woman has gained her independence in France and went out with a bang!” Jane declared triumphantly. “I mean, look at this guy. Lickable even in a LinkedIn photo. Can you imagine when he’s not forced to pose formally?” 

Ruby stared at Diana’s phone, a dreamy look on her face. “What a handsome guy,” she mooned, much to Moody’s dismay.

Gilbert bristled, and grabbed the phone out of Diana’s hand. A man in a suit, with black hair slicked back, piercing black eyes, a serious look on his face. He looked like one of the men to grace the cover of Newsweek or Time. He had to admit begrudgingly that the man was indeed, good looking. 

“He swept her off to Chamonix for the weekend as a surprise,” Diana explained. “She thought they were just going for dinner, but he took her on a helicopter and flew them there.”

“He flies his own helicopter?” Jane asked in awe. 

“He’s a licensed pilot for small airplanes and helicopter.”

“Are you saying that he kidnapped her for a weekend of seduction?” Gilbert demanded.

Diana shrugged. “It’s not kidnapping in she is a willing participant.”

“What? Is he going to pressure her into having sex because she is going to feel like she owes him for the trip?” 

Diana rolled her eyes. “Look. Anne is a big girl. She knows how to say ‘no’ if she is not up to it. She’s a political science and journalist major, for God’s sake,” she said. “You would know how she feels about him if you would answer her video calls every once in awhile.”

“I don’t want her hurt,” he mumbled. “He looks like a jackass.”

“You don’t even know the guy,” Josie said. “Let her have her fun.”

* * *

“Hey, Anne,” he greeted, a nervous smile on his lips. 

She had a surprised look on her face. “Hi, Gil! This is a surprise,” she said. 

“I’m sorry. I was very busy for the past few months,” he apologised, feeling the heat of embarrassment creeping up his neck. 

Anne smiled cordially. “It’s okay. I understand.” She looked great, her hair in a loose braid over her shoulder. She was wearing an off-shoulder shirt, revealing her creamy skin and the freckles he loved so much. “Evening shift today?”

Gilbert nodded. “Yeah. I wanted to catch you when you are off work. Didn’t want to disturb your day.”

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping then?” she asked, as she could be seen cutting some vegetables on her kitchen counter.

“Nah, sleep can wait. I missed you.” 

Anne looked up from cutting the bok choy. A dubious smile on her face. “Yeah?”

“Are you doubting me?”

The woman laughed. How he had missed her laugh. It tinkled, the prettiest chime. “After 3 months of radio silence? Of course!” she replied with a teasing smile. 

His heart sped up slightly. “Are you mad?”

She shrugged as she gathered the leafy vegetables into a strain. “Cardiology residents are pretty busy, I understand,” she replied reassuringly. “How are you? How’s everything back home?” she looked at him curiously. 

“Everyone’s fine here. I just talked to Mary and Bash last weekend. You’re going to miss Delly’s recital.”

She perked up at the mention of Delly. “Nope, not a chance! I told Mary to Facetime me during the recital,” she announced proudly. 

He was surprised. “You talk to Mary?”

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I? I miss them too!”

His heart melted. “The dance will be at 6, and it will be midnight in Paris, Anne.”

“So? It’s my baby Delphine’s first recital! I’m not going to miss it!” 

He wished he could reach into the screen to push the stray red hair behind her lobe. And maybe to drop a kiss on that shoulder. “I miss you so much, Anne,” he blurted. 

Her gaze softened. Not quite the same. She used to look at him different. “I miss you too, Gil.” She smiled, before giving her side profile as she washed the vegetables in the sink. “So, tell me things. What are you up to? How’s Winnie?”

“I’m good. Winnie and I, uh, we broke up,” he confessed. 

She stopped her washing to face her laptop, concern written all over her face. “Did you just say you broke up with Winifred?”

He nodded. “Yeah?”

“Are you okay, Gil?”

He shrugged. “Yeah.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

She looked at him, the tap still running, a curious look on her face.

All of the sudden a man entered the frame as he pulled her around before leaning down for a kiss. She was startled before relaxing into his embrace. Gilbert could see tongues, and decided he had seen enough. 

“Ahem!”

Anne pulled away gingerly, blushing to her roots. The effect was so lovely, Gilbert’s heart hurt. The man was genuinely shocked at the interaction, before giving a small apologetic wave. 

Damn, he was one good looking bastard. 

“Who do we have here, Anne?” he asked, feeling all sorts of discombobulated. 

Anne beamed up at the man, who stood with his arm wrapped around her. Bastard is a good foot taller than her. He had a gentle smile on his face, and Gilbert could tell that man is as good as gone for Anne. 

“This is Roy Garnier. Roy, meet Gilbert, my childhood friend,” she introduced. Her face was like looking at the sun. She was shining brightly. 

It was like being sucker punched. And the way that she was looking at the man was awfully familiar... and it was ripping his heart out. 

* * *

Diana went to visit Anne in May, a month before Anne was scheduled to return. She gushed about the Eiffel, their stay in one of the chateaus, winery tour and the ultimate favorite, the trip to Côte d’ Azur. 

“He brought us to one of his nightclubs in Cannes, and it was amazing. European dance club is another level,” Diana gushed. 

“You’re making my trip to Huron sound lame,” Josie complained. “Does this Roy have a sister?” she continued, a gleam in her eyes. 

Diana laughed. “As a matter of fact, he does! And she gets along so well with Anne. But sorry to rain on your parade, Jo, but she has a steady boyfriend.”

Gilbert tossed back the beer he was nursing. So the family was involved. He wondered, if Marilla and Matthew were aware of Garnier’s existence. 

“Tell me one bad thing about that guy,” Jane pleaded. “He sounds too perfect, I can’t even.”

Diana tapped her chin mockingly. “Well, he does have a cleft chin? Isn’t that a genetic defect or something, Gilbert?” she asked, glancing briefly at him. “But, that blasted chin is the source of Anne’s panty getting in a twist,” she joked. 

The girls howled. 

Gilbert had had enough. “I don’t want to hear about Anne’s panties,” he grumbled, standing up to leave the group.

Fresh air was what he craved after that blasted conversation indoor. The weather was getting warmer, and the trees were in full bloom. The air smelled of grass and soil. Anne would always wax poetic about spring, despite claiming the humidity doing funny things to her hair.

“You okay, Gilbert?” Diana asked as she pulled the sliding door to the patio close. 

He grunted. 

“Aren’t you a ray of sunshine,” she added sarcastically. 

“What do you want, Di?”

“What’s been up your ass?”

He shrugged. “Nothing.”

“You’ve been moping for two months now. If you’re still hung up on Winnie, go and beg her to take you back,” she suggested offhandedly. “I can’t imagine her rejecting that pretty face of yours.”

Gilbert rolled his eyes. “I’m not hung up on her.”

“Then why are you being such a brooding asshole?”

Diana was not one to mince words. He swallowed nervously, nursing his beer in between his hands. “Do you think Anne would really come back next month?”

Diana smirked triumphantly, as if she had won something. But her demeanor changed upon seeing his dismay. “She still has a job here, Gilbert,” she said tentatively. “Not to mention her family, her friends, her life.”

“Even though she is presented with a better opportunity that her new life in Paris could offer her?”

“Anne did not get on with Roy because of his status,” she warned. “You know her better than that.”

He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. It was getting longer. Usually, it was Anne who would do the honor to trim his curls. 

“I know,” he admitted. “And that is even worse.”

“You had your chance, Blythe.”

“I -,” he paused. “I thought -.” He looked down at his feet. What was he thinking? Flaunting his relationship after relationship to Anne? Pushing the woman that he loved away? 

“You thought she would be around forever, while you sample the willing pussies around you, is that it?”

“No!” 

“Then, what is it?” Diana barked. “You broke her heart when you started dating Winifred. She thought it would finally be her turn. You’re back after you’re done with your internship in John Hopkins. She waited for you! Then you went out and picked the blondest nurse out there, and you thought she would stick around for you any longer?”

Gilbert’s eyes started prickling with tears. He covered his eyes with his hand, refusing the tears to flow. 

“She accepted the job because she wanted to come back healed, to be a better friend for you. Because even if you have broken her heart multiple times, she still wants to be your best friend. But she couldn’t do that being physically too close to you.”

He was fully sobbing. “I don’t deserve her, Di. That’s the reason. I was scared. These girls, they were easy. I didn’t love them. I didn’t plan a future with them. But Anne, she’s there is all the variations of my future. But I don’t think I’m good enough for her.”

Diana exhaled. “She is starting to love him, Gilbert.”

“Am I too late?”

“I don’t know.”

* * *

There was barely any changes to Toronto since the last time she was home. 

It was June, she had landed in Pearson at half past two, the heat of summer in full effect. The glare of the sun was enough excuse for her to don her sunglasses throughout her entire journey to the luggage area, eventually emerging at the arrivals gate.

Her eyes landed on the familiar figure leaning against one of the pillars. His curls were out of control, he had his own pair of sunglasses on. His lips were painted in a smirk, and she smiled wistfully.

She had missed him, and she was glad to say, the hurt has finally ebbed away. 

“Hey stranger,” she greeted, stepping into his opened arms. 

His hug was always warm and comfortable, the way his arms wrapped around her body felt like coming home. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” he muttered into her ear, tightening his hold on her. 

She laughed. “I missed you too, Gil. But let’s get out of here.”

She looked incredible, he decided, as he opened the passenger door of his pickup. Her hair was shorter, almost shoulder length, and if she had looked sweet with her almost hip-length hair, this new style made her look more… sophisticated. 

It felt slightly foreign. 

But underneath all that, she was still his Anne. 

“Are you hungry? You wanna get some drive-thru?”

“Yeah, I’d kill for some TimBits. I’ve missed it so much!” 

Gilbert laughed. “Can take the Canadian out of Canada, but can’t take Canada out of her!”

“Too true,” she chuckled. “What’s hanging with you? I thought Diana was supposed to pick me up?”

“I took the day off to pick you up. So, the world, or rather, Toronto is your oyster, Anne-girl,” he said, smiling gently as he glanced at her from the driving seat.

She stared at him, a fond look from the way her lips stretched and curved upward. The striking blue eyes that he so loved were hidden behind the sunglasses. 

A stop at Tim’s later and they were back at her apartment. “I’m too tired from the trip to do much of anything, Gil,” she sighed. “Forgive me?”

“Hey, don’t worry,” he replied as he set her bag in her bedroom. She noticed how the curtains were parted, allowing the afternoon sun to illuminate her long-deserted room. There was no dust, and there was a fresh vase of violets on the night stand. 

“Gil, why are there fresh flowers in my room?” she asked, an appreciative smile on her face.

“Because you deserve the best homecoming.”

She threw her arms around him, a more fervent version of a hug than the one they’d exchanged at the airport. 

“I’m so glad that you’re here, Anne,” he whispered into her ear as he dropped a kiss on her flaming hair. “Welcome home.”

Anne burst into tears. She was even more convinced that the biggest decision she had made in her entire life thus far was right.

Gilbert pulled away, and he removed her sunglasses. To his dismay, her lovely ocean blue eyes were rimmed red and swollen, his best guest, from crying. 

“Was it very painful to leave Paris, Anne-girl?” he asked tentatively, smoothing her hair, preparing himself for any course of heartbreak.

She nodded, bringing a fist to her mouth to smother her cries. “Roy had proposed and I said no. I love him, but I couldn’t stay.”

* * *

He watched as Anne went through the days of summer in a daze. She was there but not really there. Oftentimes, he had to nudge her to bring her out of her stupor. She was already slender, but she was losing weight from the way her cheeks and her collarbones were hollowed in. 

Seeing the woman you love pining after another man hurt like a bitch, and Gilbert strongly did not recommend the experience. 

He tried to cheer her up, dropping by with lunch on the days he was working nights, crashing on her sofa on his off days. She stared at her phone far too often, and there were times when she was typing on her laptop, where she would just burst into tears. She didn’t talk about him, not at all, preferring to silently assimilate the pain in her head. 

They were in the middle their recently-revived Scrabble tournament, and Anne just laid the tiles for ‘worthy’ over Gilbert’s ‘thwart’ and ‘kismet’. 

“Question,” he started. 

“That’s 48 points, getting warmer, Blythe.”

“Why did you say no to him?”

Anne looked up from scribbling her points on the notepad. He stared right back at her. 

She sighed. “I’d be saying yes to moving away from the only home I know. I’d be saying yes to leaving Marilla and Matthew. I’d be saying yes to quitting my job. And I’d be saying yes to becoming something I had never envisioned I would be.” 

“He’s a socialite. Old money. His mother abhorred me. Dorothy loved me because of how i didn’t fit her brother’s stereotypes.”

“But somehow we meshed well together. He loved me. He valued my opinion both professionally and personally. He saw me as an equal but it still didn’t discount the fact that being a journalist is too much of a scandal for his traditional family.”

He nodded, looking down at the tile ‘e’ on his deck. “How do you love him, Anne?” he asked quietly. 

She paused, contemplating her answer. “I loved him the way he was to me, beginning as friend, a confidante, a support, a lover. It came in stages.” She smiled wistfully. “Therefore I have to unlove him the similar way.”

* * *

July came with the dreaded heat. The only consolation it brought was the images of Anne in her tiny cutoffs and bandeau tops or the flimsy flirty summer dresses. Her hair had grown a tad longer, the messy strands piling up on top of her head, exposing the creamy neck he has been aching to kiss. 

That day he dropped by unannounced at her place after his morning jog. He was aware of how often he was imposing himself on her, but as long as she permitted, he was going to stick around. He had bagels and coffee safely placed on her kitchen counter before noticing her perched on her kitchen stool, in her towel, reading the instruction at the back of a package. 

He tried to ignore the stirring in his loins at the sight of her, hair still wet from her morning shower. “What do you have there?”

“I’m late,” she blurted. 

“I thought you have today off?” he replied, confused. 

She looked up, staring dead at him. “I do.”

He frowned. Then it hit him. His heart dropped. 

He swallowed. “What do you need me to do?”

She clutched the towel to her chest. All thoughts of having it fall to her feet fled his mind. She needed him. But not in the biblical sense. He thought bitterly at the funny turn of event. 

“I’ve never done this, Gil,” she whispered. 

“I’ve never done this too, Anne-girl,” he replied, smiling complacently. 

“Not even with any of your exes?” 

He shook his head. He kept his thing wrapped. There’s only one future mother of his children. And now, he saw the future fading away, little by little. 

He kneeled down in front of her, looking small in the towel that wrapped her. He took the package from her hand, and turned it around in his. “I’m pretty sure you need to pee on this thing. I’m all about chipping in for everything with you, Anne-girl, but I’m sure it needs to be your pee.”

She chuckled, a teary smile on her face. “Will you wait the dreaded two minutes with me?”

“Of course I will.”

* * *

“Are you going to tell him?”

She shook her head. She nibbled on her bagel, her eyes a million miles away. 

“Do you want me to go home?”

She looked up, and held his hand with hers. “Stay.”

They went through their breakfast quietly. Anne stayed away from coffee, she was still feeling nauseous. Gilbert could imagine why. 

“Did you want it to be positive?” he asked quietly. He wished with all his heart that he would be blessed with the chance to experience certain firsts with her. 

“It felt like the wrong time,” she confessed. “But I would accept it wholeheartedly.”

“I know you would, Anne-girl,” he whispered, squeezing her hand, when his own heart felt like it’s being squeezed inside his chest. 

“But I couldn’t help thinking, wouldn’t it be wonderful? A part of me, and a part of him. I did love him. And it wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”

It wouldn’t. You would just gravitate back to him, like how you are now, thinking about that man across the Atlantic. He or she would have your hair but his nose. And I would love the child no matter what, because he or she is a part of you, and I’d love any part of you, he thought with a lump in his throat. 

“It wouldn’t. And you would be the most amazing mother.”

She beamed, despite the tears rolling down her cheeks. “Given time,” she whispered. 

“Given time,” he echoed. Hopefully with my ring on your finger, as an afterthought. 

* * *

Summer gave way to fall, Anne’s favorite season of all. 

He has been planning a little getaway to their island for October. He had just bought a cottage in Darnley and he was positive it was in need of Anne’s magic touch. 

The pregnancy scare was not spoken about after that day in July. She was slowly but surely regaining her footing, going on jogs with him, gaining more colors to her cheeks and back the curves that he so loved. He insinuated his way deeper into her life, staying more nights in her spare bedroom than he did at his own apartment. 

“That room is yours, if you want it,” she said one night as they were preparing dinner. 

He stole a look at her, smiling. “Yeah?”

“You’re a good friend, Gil. I know you’re feeling empty after your break with Winifred. But if your need company, I’m here.”

His smile faded a little. He turned to face her, his eyes earnest. “You’re the only company I need, Anne-girl.”

She giggled. And blushed. How he had missed her blush. 

His heart soared. 

“Roy is coming to Montreal next month for a conference,” she said casually as she continued chopping the garlic for their pasta. 

And the heart fell to his feet.

“Are you going to see him?” 

She shrugged. “He did send me an invite. For old time’s sake, you know?”

“Don’t sleep with him,” he blurted. 

Her hands stopped moving. She looked up from the board. 

“Please,” he added, as an afterthought. His eyes pleading. 

She looked at him curiously. 

“I love you. Always have. Give me a chance, please,” he confessed.

She placed the knife down gently and proceeded to wash her hands. He watched as she wiped her hands before leaning against the sink to face him. Her face calm. 

“Where is this all coming from?” she asked.

Confused, he remained the distance, afraid if she were to flee. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve been friends for nearly twenty odd years. Where is this all coming from?” she asked again. 

He ran a hand through his hair, nervous. “You hit my head with the math textbook and I’ve been a goner ever since.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? And you proceeded to date Christine Stuart for all of junior and senior year.”

He opened his mouth to rebut. “You were two years my junior, Anne! It would be creepy to hit on the freshman!” 

She shrugged. “Fine. Then you had that fuck-a-thon period throughout college,” she continued, holding out her arm as emphasis. 

He colored. He was blinded by the many girls throwing themselves at him. He knew he was not a saint. And it was one of the reasons why he felt he was not good enough for her. 

“And you added me into the body count my junior year of college. If you remember,” she added sarcastically. 

He took a step closer. “Don’t put it that way,” he pleaded. 

“And you drunk kissed me the night of your graduation, asking me to wait for you,” she rambled on, her face stoic but her eyes glassy. “And I did. You came back from your internship to date your golden-haired beauty, Winifred.”

He could feel the tears rolling down his cheeks. He remembered that night in the hazy recesses of his mind. He stepped closer, but she held out a hand to stop him. “I’ve been waiting to hear you say that for almost two decades. And now that I’ve heard it, it didn’t give me the warm fuzzy feeling I thought it would. Instead, I’m feeling angry,” she confessed, her eyes blazing. 

“Angry, because it took me a trip six thousand kilometres away from you to finally put my feelings for you to rest. Angry because you’ve been asking and asking and expecting me to continue giving. Angry because it takes a simple question from you for me to forget my resolve. Angry, because no matter how I thought I’m over you, I am not,” she said, refusing to shed a single tear. 

“I’m sorry, Anne-girl,” he begged, maintaining his distance, because he owed her at least that. 

“No, you’re not,” she argued. 

“I am!” he replied firmly, gaining strength from her confession. He’d take angry with the knowledge that she still had feelings for him any day. “I’d do anything for you to forgive me,” he continued vehemently. “You are and will always be the one,” he confessed. “Tell me what I can do to make things right. I’d do anything.”

“Anything?” she croaked, looking unsure for the first time that night. 

He nodded. He longed to touch her, but he knew she would only repel her touch. 

“I don’t trust you,” she blurted. 

It hurt to hear it coming from the only woman he loved. “I understand,” he swallowed. 

“You can’t go two weeks without a hookup.”

“I haven’t slept with anyone since March,” he vowed. 

“Do you want a cookie for that?” she asked sarcastically. 

He sighed. “No.”

“I know you love me, but I fear I may not be enough for you,” she confessed. 

It broke his heart. 

“You’re everything!” he argued. 

“Am I?” 

He grabbed on his hair, frustrated. “You’re my first and last thought of every single day. Whenever I need a pick-me-up, I just need to call you and hear your voice. Whenever things got tough in college, I just looked at your photos on my study table to remind me of my purpose. You are the bright light in my otherwise dimmed life, Anne-girl.”

“You’re my best friend, you’re my confidante, and you’re my life. The thought of losing you back in June almost killed me. I thanked all the deities for bringing you back to me. When you had that pregnancy scare, how I wished to experience it firsthand as your life partner, not as your mere best friend, because in all the instances of the future, you are the mother of my children,” he ranted, feeling his heart soar at the noticeable changes on her face. How could she not know that she was his end game?

“I know I’ve been asking and asking, Anne, but I swear to you, love, I want to give back. I want to give it all. I want to give you me. I know I’m not much, but please have me.”

“You’re enough. You have always been more than enough,” she mumbled. “But now I don't feel ready for you. I don’t have it in me to trust you not to back out from whatever this is, because being with you and not going to have it all, is going to break me,” she whispered. 

He nodded, braving himself to close the distance between them. He was grateful when she didn’t pull away from his hands around hers. “I understand, Anne-girl. I’d take anything you’re willing to give me,” he vowed. 

“Can you be happy with that? Can I trust you not to turn around and date another blonde?” she asked quietly.

He nodded, couldn’t bring himself to utter the blasphemy of being with another woman in the future. 

“Only time will tell,” she decided, looking him in the eye. 

He held her stare. “In time,” he agreed. 

* * *

November was painful at the least. He longed to shower her with romantic presents but knew it would be unappreciated. Roy had come and gone, and he took comfort that she didn’t fly in to Montreal to meet him. 

“I didn’t mean to tell you what to do, back in October,” he blurted, during one of their jogging sessions. The air was getting colder, it was freezing his ass and his nips, but his heart was beating out of his chest, the heat in his belly telling him he was anxious about her feedback. “It’s up to you if you want to go to Montreal.”

She shrugged. “I know.”

They jogged for another mile. They were huffing and puffing and eyeing the pancakes joint not too right opposite the park. 

“So are you going?”

She shook her head. 

His heart soared. And the heat turns to embers, warming him throughout. 

“I’m going to Atlantic to get some cranberry sauce. Bash forgot to add it in his shopping list,” he announced, donning his parka while rolling his eyes. 

Anne chuckled. “Don’t get lost in the blizzard.”

He looked at her fondly. “I have my North Star right here.” Then he turned around to leave. 

He dazzled her with his words for awhile, before shaking her head at Bash clearing his throat. “The two of you are killing me,” he complained, opening his arms for a hug. 

Anne stepped dutifully into his arms. “You love us for it. Marilla and Matthew are running a bit late.”

The clock chimed twice, and she looked out the window. Her parents have made it safely to the Blythe-Lacroix’s. “How long does it take to get some canned cranberries from the store?” she grumbled, her heart skipping a beat. “It’s been almost two hours.” 

“I imagine the crowd would be crazy for last minute shopping,” Mary replied, patting her hand consolingly. “This is not the first year Bash has forgotten something for Christmas dinner.”

The crowd diverted their attention the man in question, who whistled innocently.

A knock on the door and Anne jumped to her feet, happy to welcome him home. She threw the door open. 

“We are looking for Gilbert Blythe’s next of kin?”

* * *

“Gil!” she shouted, pulling curtains after curtains. And to her relief, she finally found him, awake, ALIVE, on the gurney, his left arm in a sling. 

She threw her arms around him. “Oh my God, Gil,” she sobbed. “You’re never driving out in the blizzard again, you hear me?”

“Tall order, Anne-girl. We do live in one of the countries with the highest recorded snowfall,” he joked, pulling her closer, dropping a kiss on her snow-covered toque. 

She pulled away, her lovely eyes rimmed with tears. “I’m serious! Your driving skill is atrocious!”

He laughed, but quieted down at how distressed she looked. “I’m sorry. Just a bruised arm. I’m okay,” he replied gently, pushing a stray red strand behind her ear. It has gotten to his favorite length, and he was waiting patiently for the time it would not be awkward to run his fingers through her hair. 

She looked at him, like how she had used to look at him. Before Paris. 

When she kissed him, the noise was muted. There was only him and her. And their lips meeting. Once, twice. 

“I love you,” she whispered on his lips. 

His lips curved into a smile, his eyes still closed, relishing the feel of her in his arms. “I love you too, Anne-girl.”

She climbed onto the gurney, cuddling him close. 

“How did you get back here? I thought only immediate family is allowed?” he asked, running a finger through her hair tentatively, as the kiss was deemed as enough permission in his book. 

She looked up at him sheepishly. “I might have told them I am your fiancee?”

He grinned. And leaned down to peck her gently on the lips. “So, you’re not opposed to wearing my ring in the near future?” he asked huskily. 

She shook her head, a gentle smile on her lips. “Do you even have to ask?” 


End file.
